


Love in a Lap Dance

by Miss_Murdered



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Murdered/pseuds/Miss_Murdered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Confused by Duo kissing him, Heero visits a lap dancing club to determine his sexual orientation…2+1</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in a Lap Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellewrites/gifts).



> Disclaimer: As always, I don’t own Gundam Wing
> 
> A/N: Inspired by the song But It's Better if You Do by Panic! At the Disco and is a gift for my lovely beta ELLE.

 

_And isn't this exactly where you'd like me_   
_I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know_   
_Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety_

_~_ But It's Better if You Do - Panic! At the Disco

**Love in a Lap Dance**

The noise level was uncomfortably loud and the music was some form of dance music that was unpleasant to the ear. I was sitting in a padded booth, the cheap pleather sticky and the circular table in front of me showed what evidence remained of the embarrassing cocktails Trowa had bought for me as either some stroke of odd humour, torture or to allow me to loosen up to “enjoy” this moment. I use the word loosely. I had a feeling I would not enjoy this moment nor had I enjoyed any of the moments proceeding it. In fact, I was considering it my greatest mistake as I sat rubbing sweaty palms against the denim covering my thighs and thinking I would rather take down a battalion of mobile dolls minus a Gundam than have a lap dance.

I should explain how I got here – how I, Heero Yuy – Preventer, war hero, trained assassin from childhood ended up being more terrified of a girl taking her clothes off in front of me than any life threatening mission in my violent past.

The explanation is two words. Duo Maxwell. I feel that this should adequately explain to anyone who has had the dubious pleasure of meeting my war time comrade and Preventer partner. I found the most disagreeable and complicated moments of my young life, from being forced to set my own bones, to saving him from Barge for a stupid reason I sometimes cannot fathom myself, to being trapped in the rubble of a collapsing building for four hours with nothing but his company – all these moments that have tested my patience and my resolve not to kill an ally have somehow revolved around him.

And while he did not directly make me come to a strip club, it was his _damn_ actions, his words and his lips that had made me devise this course of action.

Trowa had abandoned me at this point in the evening. He had left to the bar area and was drinking short drinks – whisky or similar – rather than the cocktails he felt I required. True, I am not used to large quantities of alcohol. I occasionally drink beer at Duo’s favourite sports bar when I am persuaded to be less rigid in my daily routines so cocktails seemed to be Trowa’s executive decision on what I should be drinking. Little did I know that some were particularly lethal despite the innocuous colours and novelty umbrellas stuck in them and I felt the slight effects. I had a high tolerance threshold for anything that could impair judgement and brain functions but even I felt the slight blurring around the edges of my consciousness. I was going to curse Trowa for his attempt to get me drunk but then I had picked Trowa to accompany me for a few valid reasons. One was his complete indifference to his surroundings and the lack of effect that women walking around without clothing on was having on him. Another was his seemingly innate knowledge of the procedures of this sort of place.

I wanted to believe that he was so comfortable due to his skills as an infiltrator and undercover operative rather than the idea he frequented places like this regularly. I knew his interests did not lie with women but I was not naïve enough to not realise there were places that catered to his sexual orientation. He had probably agreed as this did not concern him in the slightest – scantily clad women were the erotic equivalent of a cold shower, I imagined.

The main reason I had chosen Trowa was that he was the only person I could go to. Duo was obviously not in the equation being that it was his fault, because of his _damn_ lips, that I was here in the first place. And Quatre, well, I could not imagine asking the question to Quatre although I would’ve perhaps enjoyed the response my request would have gotten.

I did not even consider Wufei. I imagined a rant about being dishonourable to women or some equivalent and it would’ve been painful and embarrassing for all involved. So that left Trowa.

I had walked deliberately from the office I shared with Duo, who had been sitting back in his chair attempting to balance a pencil on his nose, and approached the Barton/Chang office. I’d been careful, hacked into Wufei’s online calendar to ascertain that he was in a briefing in Conference Room B, before I made my way to discuss my plan with Trowa.

When I arrived, Trowa sat reading reports – the endless bureaucratic nightmare of the Preventers – and barely acknowledged my arrival. He looked up and nodded as I closed the door behind me and that was all that worked as a greeting between us. I felt I had to close the door – I had a sense of paranoia that somehow Duo would figure out my plan and I would never, _never_ live down a visit to a strip club. I had learnt long ago that I did not need to provide him with any more ammunition regarding his keen interest in my attempts at normal interpersonal relationships. Or what he would call a love life. He would roll his eyes if he knew and tell me that “I _so_ needed to get laid” and then proceed to tell me in graphic detail how this could be achieved.

I had learnt to defer to Duo in all matters of this kind as he had experience that I had seen first-hand. I had seen him with his tongue down some random guy’s throat after he ditched us in bars and he’d interpreted my hostility towards him as a latent homophobic tendency rather than what I was beginning to understand it actually was – the desire for it to be me that was the one with their tongue down his throat… Fuck. Where did that thought come from?

Trowa had was still looking at me when my thoughts returned from Duo related confusion and I decided not to proceed with any small talk – instead, I spoke simply and directly.

“I want to go to a strip club and I need someone to come with me.”

Green eyes blinked, or the one that I could clearly see did, but otherwise his expression did not change.

“When?”

“Friday.”

“Time?”

“21.30.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

We made arrangements, he would pick me up in his car as it was “a piece of shit” – Duo’s words, neither Trowa or I’s – and he advised that I wear something comfortable and to have cash in small bills. It was all very practical. I had left the office more confident in my plan and valuing Trowa’s friendship above all the other former Gundam pilots. He did not ask why – did not need to know it was because of the incident at the shooting range. Did not ask that it was because Duo’s body had pushed me into the mesh in the weapons supply closet, ground his hips into mine and sparked a heady rush of feelings and supressed desire with tongue and hands and… fuck again.

All this leads to why I am here. I have paid a girl and she is wearing very little – so far, I am comfortable with the distance between us but I am aware that I have paid for a _lap_ dance and therefore know this will become more intimate. Very few people have entered my personal space – Trowa during my injuries after my self-destruction, Duo as I have already explained and Relena when she made a girlish attempt at seduction that failed miserably. I pitied her and threw her out of my room in a robe rather than making her leave naked – Duo still laughed over this story and has decided it is proof that I am a robot and not entirely human as I had declined a young, willing, _naked_ woman and threw her out of my room.

Now this girl – no woman, was going to invade my personal space and not only had I requested it, I had paid for it. I am sure in some circle of hell, Dr. J’s head may be spinning and I feel I can hear Duo laughing in my ear, deep, husky… damn.

I had chosen a cowgirl. I could have chosen a pilot, a police officer, an angel, a prisoner, a schoolgirl, and many others but I had gone for the cowgirl. On closer inspection, she was older than she looked, her face heavily made up, with a cowboy hat perched on top of her head.

“First time, honey?” she asked in a voice I assumed was meant to be erotic.

I nodded and wondered if I was that obvious. Maybe virgin just radiates off me without me trying – I figure, I am only eighteen and I spent the first fifteen years of my life training for a war, then fought two consecutive wars and then trained and became an active Preventer and I have not had opportunity to explore this part of myself. Until now. Only since Duo kissed me.

“Then I’ll be gentle.”

She wore a checked shirt, tiny and cropped, a skirt that I believed would not classify as a skirt under any scrutiny, a belt with what I assumed were fake guns attached (I would confirm on closer inspection) and that hat. She sashayed over towards me and stopped once she was directly in front of me in the small space between booth and table.

“You’re cute enough to do this for free, cowboy.”

I felt cornered, trapped as she removed the hat and shook her brown hair and put the hat on me. I glanced over to Trowa who stood at the bar talking to the bartender and he seemed to be… flirting? He was talking, leaning close to the man and the behaviour was so odd for the man who was usually the quietest member of our team that I assumed the only explanation was attempting to sleep with said bartender. And I felt pissed. He was meant to be here as back up and he was being entirely unreliable – I now knew why I had Duo as a partner – he would save me from this situation or laugh his ass off. But then I remember. It was all his _damn_ fault.

“Relax,” she said and if anything, I tensed more.

I did not feel remotely relaxed – I rubbed sweaty palms against my jeans again as she swayed her hips in front of me to the pulsing beat of the dance song on the club’s sound system.  Her hands made deliberate movements to the tiny shirt, tied underneath her ample and my guess, enhanced chest, and began to undo this. The shirt had barely covered anything but on its removal she was only wearing what could generously be called triangles of fabric and this is when she moved closer. There was an instinct in me to lash out or at the very least remove myself from this situation but I fought this – I reasoned that this was another mission and I could not fail it. I needed to discover what my feelings were and what these previously undiscovered sexual urges meant.

The girl moved closer and I felt my body react and withdraw further into the pleather of the seat. One knee was at the side of my thigh and she stood straddling me but not _quite_ touching as she moved in a way I supposed was meant to be sexy. She parted her lips and looked down at me through heavy lidded eyes and threw her hair forward and back, the long brown strands slightly wavy and shuddering lightly against my skin as she moved.

I looked as I should, every muscle tense at the very close proximity she had to me, as now the other knee was settled on the seat and she was now so close that I could feel her body heat as she straddled me, touching but not touching me. She ran her fingers over her body, grinding downwards ever so slightly so that I could feel her body touch my own and I fought the urge to push her away and I realised that I wasn’t finding this even remotely arousing.

It was nothing like Duo’s lips on mine, the firmness of his body, the slight hint of stubble across his jawline, the aggressive way his tongue had demanded entrance into my mouth, the way strong hands had rested on my hips and drew me close.

And therefore the mission was a success. I was attempting to ascertain my sexual preferences and I had done so – that this woman, half naked, and straddling me, was certainly attractive in a conventional sense but I had no feelings either sexually or otherwise towards her. If I had a type, I had seen enough near naked women in this evening to be sure that it did not seem to lie with the female sex. This seemed both reassuring and vaguely terrifying.

The moment of clarity was interrupted by buzzing in my back pocket and I reached for this despite my current position.

“Don’t answer, sweetie.”

I ignored her as she moved a little off me so that only one knee was resting against the pleather. I could not ignore my phone. Preventer missions could come at a moment’s notice and so I answered diligently as a good agent should. The girl did not look entirely happy and backed off further to sit on the round table in a way that I imagine was meant to be enticing and she had stolen back her cowboy hat.

“Yuy.”

I had not checked the caller ID in my haste to answer the call – only answered – and I nearly choked at the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, buddy, where the hell are you? I swung by your place and you ain’t there.”

His voice was faint and I stood up earning myself a glare from the lap dancer. I could not hear from both the sound of the club’s music and the lack of workable signal. I glanced over to the bar area and Trowa but he did not seem to have noticed my departure from the booth and I continued out of the dense heat of the club to the coolness of the night air.

“I could’ve been sleeping,” I said, finally.

“Well, no, since I kinda checked that…”

“You broke into my apartment.”

It was a statement – a statement I should’ve amended and added the word “again” as I have become far too used to Duo breaking into my apartment. When I moved, I would buy an apartment in a high security complex and see if he can get past that. Yet I feared that perhaps would just be creating some kind of challenge for him…

“Yeah, well, it ain’t like you to be out, you know, so I was kinda worried you’d died or somethin’.”

“I’m a healthy eighteen year old. I am not dying in the immediate future.”

“Huh, yeah, well, it’s just not _you_ , buddy boy, so I figured somethin’ was up… so where are you? I thought I heard music when you picked up… you ain’t at a club or bar without me?” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Hell… you’re on a date.”

“I’m not on date.”

“So where are you? I’m, like, totally bored, I could hook up with you, drink a few beers… you can take me home drunk when I decide Jagermeister is a good idea…”

“No!”

“Heero… you sound weird… what’s your problem? You’re not still freaked out about, you know, the shooting range? It was, like, totally my fault… just sometimes…”

His voice drifted off.

“It’s not about that.”

“Then where are you?”

“Duo,” I ground out.

“Fine. I’ll just hack your phone signal and triangulate your location.”

“Don’t.”

The tone in my voice was as harsh as I could manage but it obviously had not deterred him at all as the phone had moved from his ear and I could hear the keystrokes through the receiver. I suddenly felt I should turn on the video function so that I could glare at him and hope that it would dissuade him from doing what he was _damn_ doing but Duo had long since become immune to my glare. If he had ever been intimidated at all – which considering he had shot me, twice, on our initial meeting, I fear he has never been truly afraid of me.

The soft “oh shit” that I heard confirmed that he had triangulated my signal and discovered my location.

“Duo?” I said to determine whether the phone had returned to his ear.

“You’re at a strip club?”

“Yeah.”

“A strip club with chicks.”

The sentence was not a question but I could hear the strained way the words were said – shock, perhaps, or something more. I answered in monotone.

“Yeah.”

“Damn… then I’m _so_ fucking sorry about the kiss, you know, you just sometimes gave me these totally mixed signals, like, all the fucking time and it’s like one minute you hate me and the next you look like you wanna get into my pants and I so didn’t get –”

“Duo.”

“– that you were totally straight and I respect that, man, and if I’d known you were, like, straight I wouldn’t have done that as I know gay guys and guys making out freaks straight guys out… Maybe I should stop being your partner –”

“Duo.”

“– and transfer or something. I mean, fuck, I so wouldn’t have kissed ya, you know, I’m not gonna, like, force myself or pursue or whatever a straight guy –”

“Duo! Stop talking!”

Throughout his rambling, he had ignored my repeated attempts to interject but with the increased volume of my tone, he actually stopped and said only one more word.

“…okay.”

“I am at a strip club…” I began but stalled.

I am not entirely comfortable discussing my feelings in any capacity and this was entirely embarrassing and somewhat pathetic. He stayed silent, for once, on the other end of the line and I could hear his breathing. Hear it like I felt it against the back of my neck when he leaned over me as I typed at work…

“I am at a strip club as I needed to understand how I felt about the kiss.”

There was still no response on the other end of the line and I felt relief as I tried to understand how to say the next few words. I kicked a lose stone on the sidewalk and looked around under the yellow of a street light.

“I wanted to understand what my sexual preferences were. Whether they lay with women or men.”

I could explain how I felt this was a mission as much as any other I had been on but felt that would only make him laugh and the last thing I felt I needed was more humiliation. It was enough he knew. It was enough he had not mocked me yet. I did not need him to know there had been prior planning and that Trowa was with me – he truly would never let me live this down if he knew that. Operation Heero’s Sexual Orientation. He’d probably make a pretend case file for his amusement.

As I had not spoken for some time, I think he grew intolerant and defied my instruction to not talk.

“And what did you find out, ‘Ro?”

“I am not interested in women.”

“So…?”

“I don’t know, Duo.”

I honestly did not know how to proceed. I had discovered that women did not illicit a response no matter how scantily clad but it did not mean I wanted to jump into bed with Duo however tempting it was considering that I had denied this part of myself for a long time. I will admit – I am eighteen. I have a libido.

“You wanna talk about… this stuff?”

Articulate. Stuff. “We are talking.”

“Naw, in person, you know, not on a phone.”

I looked up at the night sky and thought about how I wanted to be at home right now. In my apartment. I would regulate my breathing and sleep soundly and forget the whole stupid endeavour. Trowa and I would never speak of it again. Yet Duo would… perhaps best to do this now while I still felt the faint buzz of alcohol.

“Yeah.”

I realised I had not been thoroughly articulate tonight either.

“I’ll meet ya there and we can go to Shooters… just give me five.”

I was aware Duo’s five would most likely be ten as I disconnected the call and secured my phone in my back pocket. I couldn’t re-enter the club, both from my fear of encountering the cowgirl again and from the lack of forethought to get my hand stamped on the way out to be allowed to go back inside without further payment. I thought briefly about Trowa but decided I could abandon him as he had abandoned me – paybacks a bitch, as Duo would say.

I waited and as anticipated he took longer to arrive than his designated five, walking deliberately, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and not reaching out in any friendly gesture.

“Hey.”

I acknowledged his greeting with a nod of the head – something he was accustomed to and we began walking away from the club, the sound of pounding dance music dissipating as we walked away.

He remained uncharacteristically silent for most of the walk around the few blocks to the more familiar and comfortable sports bar but it seemed he was holding in questions and I am sure if he does not speak for a certain period of time then there is possibility of implosion or explosion. Combustion. Something.

“You want to say something.”

“I just have one question… the chicks all dress up… so what did you pick?”

I blinked and we had stopped walking and I looked incredulously at him. How did he know? The answer to this question could range from having been there himself (unlikely but entirely possible –Duo’s sexual preference was not in question but then he was entirely unpredictable) to just searching the club on the internet once he had discovered where he was. I decided not to think much on it.

“Cowgirl.”

He chuckled and looked like he was ready to do what I feared – mock me for my foolish attempts at “normal” human behaviour, at researching and creating a situation where I could observe and consider my feelings. But he did not start mocking me and his chuckle was brief. His next action startled me more than if he had mocked me – his face was close enough to mine to feel hot breath against my parted lips and I could see the hint of freckles over his nose and how blue his eyes were before his lips closed over mine and in shock my mouth opened. I probably tasted of alcohol mixed with sweet sugary syrups and fruit juices but he wasn’t perturbed and I wasn’t either by the feel of tongue exploring, more languid, less impatient than our first heated moment in the weapons supply closet of the Preventer shooting range.

A hand was firm against the small of my back, pushing me closer, and I moved my hands from my sides to his shoulders and pushed my hips forward in an automatic gesture that I felt I had no control over. He moaned into my mouth, approving of my body’s need to create friction against a very male body, and I felt the stirrings of arousal. He could do with a kiss what a woman grinding in little clothing could not – make me feel, want, desire.

All too soon, it was over – both of us breathless, hands returning to pockets and sides rather than continuing to make out in the middle of a street.

“You know… if you had a thing for the cowgirl thing… I kinda have a cowboy hat…”

He smirked that trademark smirk and started walking further down the block leaving my brain muddled and my body stalled under a streetlight. For a second, my usually so methodical thought processes were clouded and he turned back towards me realising I had not followed his lead.

“Oh and Heero… I do have the outfit as well… if you’re, you know, _interested_.”

Duo winked, turned back around and finally, despite the new image that had now lodged itself into my skull, my legs caught up. Walking beside him, having taken the drastic step of visiting a strip club, I felt I was starting to understand a little more about normal human feelings long supressed.

And that would be mission accomplished.


End file.
